


Smoke and a Pancake

by IncompleteSentanc (Erava)



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Burn The House Down With The Lemons, Drug Use, Epic Brother Klaus Hargreeves, Gen, Good Sister Vanya Hargreeves, Grace Is Trying Her Hardest, Klaus Has Had Enough, Shit Father Reginald, Smoke and a Pancake, Vanya Breaks Stuff But Not The World, bad language words, mild PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 15:31:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18123116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erava/pseuds/IncompleteSentanc
Summary: Vanya's sixteen when she smokes pot for the first time.This hasveryunexpected consequences.





	Smoke and a Pancake

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, there is marijuana usage in this story - just one scene, but it's not exactly brief. Anyways, I based Vanya's reaction off my own when I smoked while on a medication that numbed me pretty hardcore. Obviously it's not the same for everyone.
> 
> As a note, I want to add: My only issue with Umbrella Academy was having Vanya just stop taking her meds. Don't do that, guys, the brain chemical whiplash you get from it is... yikes. It's yikes. 0/10, do not suggest. 
> 
> Love you guys =) Enjoy ♥

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a cool May night when Vanya wakes up from a bad nightmare. She dreams of being trapped in a cold, dark room - no light, no sound, just the noise and sensation of her own panicked breathing. She wakes up with a jolt, heart pounding in her chest, and feeling far more disturbed than the dream should warrant. It feels… oddly more intense than it should, and leaves her feeling like she’s _yearning_ for something. Something she can’t quite put her finger on.

She tries, scrounging her mind for any kind of hint, but the details of her dream are rapidly fading, leaving her feeling even more unsettled and without a clue _why._

Vanya swings her legs over the side of the bed and sighs, rubbing at her face. She pushes her hair back and stands, frustrated and needing to _move._ She paces the room for a moment before heading to the window instead, leaning her forehead against the cool glass. The sensation eases her a bit and she exhales a heavy breath, feeling some of the tension run out of her.

She hates that dream. It’s not the same every time, some dreams having more detail than others, but the sensation it leaves her with is identical each time.

And unlike her siblings, she doesn’t have training to occupy her mind in the mornings. She always has to _dwell_ on the unease, trying and failing to understand it, without a thing to distract her from it. Just herself, alone with her music - something she can never quite get lost in.

With a heavy sigh, Vanya thunks her head quietly against the window frame. The mild pain doesn’t really help much, but it didn’t _hurt_ either.

She’s still trying to think of a way to distract herself when the problem fixes itself. Movement in the yard catches her eye and Vanya squints into the darkness.

The bench swing in their mother’s garden is moving, swaying back and forth. She can see a dark shape on the white material, but it’s far too dark outside to make out any detail. Still, knowing her family like she does…

She’d eat her shoe if that’s not Klaus out there.

Vanya considers her options for a moment. She can pretend she saw nothing and lay down, resigning herself to silence for the next four hours until the sun comes up and the day begins.

Or she can try and sneak past Pogo, possibly getting grounded for a week, but possibly getting outside and having a nice night talking with her favorite (remaining) brother. Of course, the conversation isn’t _guaranteed_ to be nice, but… it’s still better than the alternative.

Vanya changes into her uniform and makes her way downstairs. She dodges all the extra creaky steps and is careful not to let her shadow touch Pogo’s or her Father’s doors, and Mom is plugged in so she doesn’t even notice Vanya walking past.

She makes it to the door undetected and carefully slides out the window _next_ to the door, evading the view of her Father’s cameras.

The night air feels even better with a touch of victory in it. Vanya pats herself on the back and heads for the garden, wincing when the gate creaks as she moves it. She’ll have to remember to oil it later so she can do this again. Spending a night on the swing, looking at the flowers, sounds much better than staring at her ceiling all night after a nightmare.

Her thoughts trail off when she reaches the swing. As expected, it’s Klaus laying draped across the bench swing, one leg bent high at the knee and the other dropping over the edge to swing the furniture back and forth. “Hey, Vanya.” Klaus greets with a lazy but genuine smile, waving with his free hand - in the other, he holds a lit joint, and Vanya wrinkles her nose at the smell.

“Really, Klaus?” She huffs and he shrugs, shifting to prop himself up on one elbow. His free hand rises and he takes a slow hit from the joint before offering it to her. Vanya gives it a baleful look and he shrugs before putting it out.

“Sorry.” He says sincerely, because he hates making them uncomfortable - or worse, incurring their judgement - by demonstrating his ‘drug habit’.

That was what Luther and Diego called it, at least. Vanya honestly thought they were being too harsh. She’d never tried it herself, but Ben had, and what he described it as didn’t sound too bad. She’s not sure how she feels about it in the end, though, so she tries not to judge too harshly. “It’s fine.” She promises him and he squints for a moment, seeming to judge her sincerity, before beaming a warm smile at her again.

“Sit, sit!” He insists eagerly, pulling his legs up and scooting to one side of the swing. Vanya laughs a bit at the wild movement the swing makes in response, then sits in the open space. She leans back and swings them lazily, while Klaus’s socked toes wiggle their way under her thigh.

“What are you doing out here?” Vanya asks curiously.

“Oh, you know.” He shrugs and gestures vaguely, and no - she doesn’t know.

“Where were you yesterday?” She asks in the same tone, not trying to pry but concerned. “You weren’t at meals, and I never saw you come back… yesterday? Tonight? Is it still before midnight?”

“Uh…” Klaus pauses for a moment, frowning. “I think it’s like two.” He guesses a bit uncertainly and Vanya shrugs in response, accepting the guesstimate.

“I didn’t see you come back yesterday.” She finishes and Klaus grimaces, staring down at his hands. His fingers pick at each other in his lap, his anxiety clear and his voice carefully casual when he speaks.

“Yeah, well, Dad had me doing some _special_ training.” Klaus ends that with a scoff, one hand rising to rub at his lips.

“Special?” Vanya echoes questioningly, her brows furrowing in concern.

Klaus scratches at his chin for a moment. “Yeah, well… Dad’s not happy I haven’t been using my powers so much.”

Vanya blinks a bit in surprise, then winces in sympathy. She looks down at her knees, picking at a few bits of lint on her skirt. “I noticed that.” She says quietly and doesn’t ask, but her voice betrays her desire to know more.

“...There’s a lot of them, now.” Klaus admits after a long moment. Vanya looks up sharply at that, not so much at the words than his shaken tone. He’s gone paler and looks a bit nauseous. “They get loud - _really loud -_ when they realize I can hear them. See them.” He winces a bit and picks harder at a scab on one of his fingers. “So I’ve been trying not to. It doesn’t work on a lot of them, but at least it doesn’t encourage them, right?” He says it almost hopefully but he sighs and slumps a bit. “But they’re so damn loud anyways.”

His gaze darts around for a moment before it settles back on his hands and Vanya watches him with a weight sinking in her stomach. “...How many are here now, Klaus?” She asks hesitantly and he scoffs quietly.

“Not as many now.” He says, waving the joint and smiling a bit wryly. “They get a lot quieter if I smoke. Some get bored enough to actually _leave me alone._ I can actually talk to someone and _hear them reply.”_ Klaus rolls his eyes dramatically at that. “Seriously, you’d think I’m half deaf at this point.”

Now that he mentions it, there _have_ been way more incidences of Klaus ‘zoning out’ or ‘not paying attention’ in recent months. “They’re that loud?” Vanya asks, honestly caught off guard and more than an little concerned. When Klaus just nods with a half hearted shrug, like ‘what can you do?’, she frowns deeper.

That was… troubling. That many ghosts, _that_ loud? Enough to drown out his perception of the real world?

“Oh my god.” Vanya whispers, her earlier unease tripling at this revelation. “Oh my god, Klaus, _why?_ Why has it gotten so bad?” She asks urgently and the teenage boy shrugs, sighing heavily.

“I don’t know, Vanya. I really don’t.” He says quietly before he re-lights the joint. Vanya watches him, taking in the trembling fingers and his pale skin, and feels a sudden stab of sympathy - and guilt at any previous judgement.

 _“It just makes everything… better. Makes the world seem brighter, you know?”_ Ben had described it as.

She _didn’t_ know. The world has never seemed bright to her - just dull and void and _lifeless._

Or maybe that’s her. Maybe she just doesn’t _feel_ it like Ben and Klaus do. Like everyone does. Nothing is ever bright, not to her.

Vanya reaches out her hand and Klaus peers at her, surprised and questioning. “It won’t… freak me out, right?”

“No.” He says, still obviously caught off guard, and he belatedly offers the joint to her. She takes it and he frowns at her softly. “Just don’t breathe in too much at first, alright?” He advises, then explains how to actually inhale it properly.

She hadn’t known she could inhale it _wrong,_ honestly, but she does as Klaus instructs and he quickly takes the joint back when she’s done, peering at her intently. “I don’t feel anything.”

“Yeah,” Klaus’s lips twitch at that. “Give it a second.” He advises, and after a few seconds, she feels herself start to relax. It hits her a bit like a wave and she leans back, blinking harder than perhaps necessary. Klaus snickers softly. “There you go. How’s it feel, sis?” He asks eagerly, peering at her, and Vanya takes a moment to reacquaint herself with her own brain. Everything feels a bit weird and she’s not sure she’s comfortable with it, but she can tell she’d like it if she was.

“Wow. It’s not bad.” Vanya says, then wrinkles her nose a bit at how odd her voice sounds to her ears. “Weird, though."

“Yeah.” Klaus agrees, beaming at her, and she can’t help the way her own lips pull back in a smile. He looks even more gleeful in response and she smiles wider before ducking her head, embarrassed.

Less embarrassed than she’d usually feel, though, and that realization makes her feel _happy_ \- downright joyous, even - which takes away even more of the embarrassment.

That settles that, then. “I like it.” She decides aloud and Klaus claps his hands together quickly but quietly.

“Oh, that’s so exciting! You look happy, tiny sis, and you don’t do that very often.” Klaus says brightly.

She grins, her heart lifting at that. A soft breeze picks up and sweeps over them, cool and soothing in the nighttime weather. May was a bit too warm, and the breeze took the edge off _perfectly._ Klaus seems to agree, sinking back against the armrest and tilting his head to look at the stars.

“God, it’s beautiful out here.” He groans appreciatively, staring up at the sky. Vanya tilts her head back as well, leaning back comfortably in the chair. She feels so nice that she almost forgets to keep moving her legs, swaying the seat in a way that makes her feel even more relaxed.

It really _is_ beautiful, and she quietly says so. “It’s so much brighter up there.”

“If Dad had his way, we’d never get to see it.” Klaus says quietly, his voice not quite solemn, but a far cry from his earlier chipperness. “Never leave our rooms after eight. Never open our windows after five. Never open our curtains after sundown, in case of paparazzi.” Klaus snorts softly, his voice quietly bitter. “We’re not children, Vanya, you know that? We’re _slaves.”_

Vanya lifts her head to stare at Klaus, but the boy just keeps watching the sky. “I think he cares about us. In his own… horribly messed up way.” Vanya says, starting off optimistic and pretty rapidly losing it. Klaus lifts his head too, just to give her a blankly judgmental stare. “...Yeah, that was dumb.” She admits, sighing.

Klaus sighs as well, then sits upright again, looking at her oddly intensely. She stares back, frowning softly. “Why are you out here, Vanya? You looked scared.” He asks her softly and she blinks, startled by the question.

She opens her mouth, then pauses and lightly bites her lip. “It’s stupid.” She says dismissively, looking back up at the sky, but Klaus’ hand grips her shoulder gently. She twitches at the contact, feeling oddly on edge, as she always does after one such nightmare. Vanya looks at Klaus and he watches her in concern. “It was… a nightmare.” Vanya says, a bit choppily. “I don’t know how to describe it. I felt… trapped.” She says, and yes, that was a huge part of it, but it wasn’t all. She hesitates, trying to identify the emotion that left her feeling so shaken. “I felt betrayed.” Vanya murmurs.

Klaus’ hand tightens, and his voice is sympathetic but hard when he speaks. “I know the feeling.”

Her head snaps around quickly and Vanya stares at Klaus in alarm. “You do?”

“Dad was pissed that I’ve been slacking on my training. He says I’m too afraid of ghosts to actually make my powers of any use.” Klaus says, his lips thinly tightly in displeasure. It’s rare to see her joyous (exuberant, even) brother express an emotion that was outright negative, and concern makes her stomach twist.

“Oh, Klaus, what did he do?” She asks, dreading the answer. Klaus looks away, pulling his hand from her shoulder and down into his lap. She doesn’t let the contact stay broken, though, and reaches out to set her hand on his bare knee. Klaus’ gaze flicks up to her, his green eyes shining, before he looks at his hands.

“He locked me in the mausoleum for twenty-four hours.” Klaus says darkly and Vanya freezes for a moment.

She feels _furious_ for a second, but it’s almost like she can’t hold onto the emotion. It slips away, becoming a very intense irritation instead, but she knows it’ll be back when she’d not so damn _happy._ “He’s such a monster.” She bites out angrily enough that Klaus blinks at her in surprise. The breeze seems to pick up for a moment, sweeping their hair up a bit.

“Whoa, first happy Vanya, now angry Vanya?” He asks, eyes twinkling in renewed delight, and again - the irritation slips away like sand through her fingers.

She rolls her eyes and her lips twist into a smile she genuinely can’t help. “Shush, Klaus.” She snorts, and then frowns as she remembers why she was irritated to begin with. “He locked you up?”

“Yeah.” Klaus sighs heavily, his glee fading too. “Chains and padlock and all. Small, stone room, no windows, no light… no anything.” Klaus’ voice trails off and he slumps back again with a heavy sigh, looking up at the stars. The breeze has gentled again, and Vanya watches it tickle at Klaus hair. “Just me and the ghosts, screaming at me.” He whispers.

“Oh, Klaus.” Vanya sighs heavily. It _hurts_ to see her upbeat brother look so… grim and _resigned._ Like this horrible experience is just a part of life, his to endure. “That’s not right. That’s _awful.”_ She insists, shaking her head in dismay. “I can’t _believe_ he would be so awful to you. You’ve never done anything to deserve it.”

“I did break that really expensive vase a few weeks ago, remember?” Klaus points out, like that’s _valid,_ and Vanya gapes at him.

“That doesn’t equal _torture,_ Klaus!” She snaps, and for a moment, she can almost picture it herself. The vividness of her dream makes a return, not in visual memory but sensation. She remembers feeling trapped, feeling betrayed, feeling alone. She remembers darkness and silence, so utterly _silent_ that it _sickened_ her-

A gust of wind whips her hair into her eyes hard enough that she recoils in surprise. “Ow!” She whines and the gust vanishes like it was never there. Vanya blinks her sore eyes, bewildered, and looks at Klaus to see him looking much the same.

He sat up when she wasn’t looking and now stares off into the distance with a confused frown. “What the hell is with this wind?” He wonders, bemused, and they both fall silent, paying attention to the breeze.

The breeze, of which has vanished without a trace. There’s almost no movement in the air now, just the sound of crickets and the stillness of a calm night.

“...I’m concerned.” Vanya says, a bit high pitched, and Klaus nods quickly.

“Yeah, let’s head inside. Where there’s no… suspicious breeze.” Klaus says, faltering at the ridiculousness of his own words. “Whatever. Bet we can get the chocolate chips out of the pantry without waking Mom.”

“An actual hurricane couldn’t wake Mom off schedule.” Vanya protests, wrinkling her nose a bit, but when he hops to his feet and offers her his hand, she takes it.

Chocolate chips sound _awesome,_ anyways.

 

* * *

 

 

That morning, when Mom serves Vanya her pill with her oatmeal, she takes it with some displeasure. She can’t help but think that these pills had never made her feel _better_ in any sense of the term, and she doesn’t like the idea of staying on them if they don’t actually benefit her. Sure, she feels calmer, but it’s at such an intensity that she might as well just say she doesn’t _feel anything._

She hadn’t even noticed until now, and that confuses and surprises her. Until the happiness (euphoria) from the joint had hit her so intensely, she hadn’t even realized how _flat_ she felt otherwise.

That night, she’s too tired to do anything and sleeps through it, but the next evening, she slips a note into Klaus’ hand when no one’s looking. He flashes her a thumbs up in the hallway a few hours later, and that night, they meet on the swing again. “How do I pretend to take a pill?” She asks point blank and Klaus stares at her for a long moment.

“Uh, why do you think I know that?” He asks almost panicky and Vanya gives him a pointed look for being such an _idiot._

“Because you obviously don’t take the sleeping pills Pogo gives you every night?” She asks dryly and Klaus huffs quietly.

“Right, good point. In my defense, Dad’s an idiot for thinking that would actually keep me from sneaking out.” Klaus mutters, shifting a bit before looking at her again. “Why do you want to know? You’re stopping your pills?”

“I think they make me… numb.” Vanya admits and Klaus frowns deeper as he considers this.

“...I guess I can see that. And honestly, I always thought you didn’t need them - you never even _had_ an anxiety problem!” Klaus gestures irritably with his hands before peering at her. “Did you? I thought maybe I just didn’t know the signs.”

“I don’t really remember?” Vanya admits, frowning. “I don’t think so, though. I don’t ever remember feeling unusually anxious.”

“We’re not doctors.” Klaus points out and Vanya winces a bit.

“I know, but… but I really don’t like feeling this way. And I honestly think it’d be worth being anxious again, because at least I’d feel something.” Vanya says, trailing off a bit at the end. She frowns down at her shoes, toeing the ground. “At least I’d know I was capable of it.” She murmurs and Klaus says nothing for a long moment.

Then he groans dramatically. “Alright, alright, little sister! Put away the puppy eyes and stop pouting, my heart can’t melt any further.” He whines before he sits up beside her and drapes an arm over her shoulders, hugging her into his side. “Let me teach you a couple tricks, then, but you _tell me_ if you start to feel worse, got it?”

“I promise.” Vanya says sincerely and he smiles before nodding seriously.

“Alright. They don’t dissolve, do they?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

She pretends to take the pill at breakfast and no one notices anything amiss. Vanya flushes it down the toilet after the meal, and to her disappointment, she doesn’t feel much at first. She goes to sleep that night feeling the same as ever, and greets the next day much the same. She flushes that pill, too.

She feels it in the hallway that morning, when she greets Allison and Diego with a warm smile that makes them both stare at her in surprise, but it’s not until that afternoon that she _realizes_ it. She realizes the difference when she practices the violin before bed, and feels the music unlike she ever has before.

She loses herself in it, feeling more at ease than she has in a long time, outside of that brief time with Klaus. Vanya _feels_ the music, her tension leaving her in waves and ripples, and by the time the song is over, she feels at peace.

She feels…

She feels _confident._ She feels proud, even. Vanya opens her eyes, a smile forming on her lips - and then flinches back in shock at the sight before her.

All of the lights in the room are broken, glass littering the floor - and she hadn’t heard or noticed a thing.

 _What the hell?_ She wonders, hastily putting her violin away. Vanya hadn’t heard a sound, but that’s not to say no one else had, and she feels the intense urge to hide. She can’t think of a single good reason not to listen to her instincts on this one, so she hurries out of the room and locks the room up behind her.

Mom doesn’t clean in there every day, so it should go unnoticed for tonight, at least - unless Pogo decides there’s some reason to check in.

Like if he’d heard the noise, which is entirely possible. Vanya winces at the thought and hurries to her room. She’s not sure why she wants to hide so desperately - what could she possibly be in trouble for? She didn’t do anything but play the violin!

But the lights hadn’t exploded on their own. Had her brothers done something? Had someone messed with the electricity somehow?

Yet the lights everywhere else seem fine. The electricity in her room is definitely normal, so _what the hell?_

“I’m so confused.” Vanya whispers, rubbing at her face - and then pulling her hands away to peer at her trembling fingers. _I’m scared,_ she realizes. _Honestly afraid, not just nervous. But of what?_

She’s not sure, and in the end, she goes to bed that night uneasy.

The next morning, Vanya forgets her worries. She wakes up feeling more positive than she has in _years,_ and it’s with determination in her step that she walks into the dining room that morning. It’s the weekend, which means they’re all eating breakfast together, as opposed to Vanya eating alone with Mom.

It gives her even more confidence, because Klaus winks at her across the table. She knows for _sure_ that at least one person in on her side - and she’s on his as well. Anger flares briefly in her chest at the reminder of her father’s transgressions against Klaus. The boy knows better than anyone the price for standing up to the man, but he does it without hesitation - and Vanya draws on that inspiration.

When their father joins them at the table and Mom dishes out the food, she places a pill next to Vanya’s plate of pancakes. She ignores it in favor of enjoying the pancakes while she can - a period of time that doesn’t last nearly long enough. She’s barely four bites in when Reginald looks at her.

“Number Seven. Take your medicine, now.” He orders in a hard, uncompromising tone.

No one even looks at her, so confident are they that she’ll obey - or pretend to, in Klaus’ case.

Their heads snap up hilarious quickly when she simply says, “No.”

They stare at her in blatant shock, even Klaus. Mom freezes at Vanya’s side, her smile faltering before she looks at Reginald, who simply stares at Vanya.

“This is not a discussion, Number Seven. You will take your medication and then you will stay in your room for the rest of the day.” Reginald commands, then looks down at his food. Once more, no one expects her to defy him - except Klaus, now. The boy keeps staring at her, eyes wide and darting between her and Reginald - his lips pulling back almost gleefully proudly when she shakes her head.

“No, I’m not taking it anymore.”

Reginald slams his utensils down and they all flinch at that, even Mom. “You are taking your medicine, Number Seven, for your own good!”

“No!” Vanya snarls back, her temper flaring at his stubbornness. “It doesn’t work! It just makes me worse, it makes me miserable! I haven’t taken it in days and I feel better than I can remember feeling in years!” Vanya argues heatedly and Reginald looks alarmed for a moment before he scowls and nods sharply at Mom.

Vanya barely has time to look over her shoulder before Mom seizes her, one arm wrapping around her shoulders to pin her to the back of the chair, the other grasping Vanya’s chin. The girl cries out in alarm, her siblings doing the same.

“Dad, what the hell?!” Klaus shouts, Diego crying an alarmed, “Mom! Stop!”

“You must take your medication, Vanya.” Mom says a bit scoldingly - and maybe, Vanya desperately wants to believe, a bit apologetically.

Vanya grabs at the woman’s arm, but her robotic status has never been more obvious. It’s solid metal holding her down, and Vanya can’t fight it. She snarls wordlessly in anger, muffled by the hand holding her jaw in a paralyzing grip. “Let _GO!”_ She tries to scream, but all she hears is her own furious growl and the sound of plates clattering.

“What’s happening?” Vanya hears Luther demand in alarm, but Father appears at her side and she stops paying attention to anything else.

“You _will_ take your medication, Number Seven - this is not optional.” He says frigidly, and Mom pries her mouth open. It _hurts,_ even more so as Vanya tries to fight it, but she doesn’t stop. The clattering gets louder and louder, even as Father clamps his hand over her mouth, her pill shoved between her lips. His other hand pinches her nose ruthlessly and Vanya _screams,_ kicking out violently.

The table screeches and something shatters. “Jesus!” Allison gasps out and Father looks sharply over at them.

“Let go of her!” Klaus yells and Father suddenly staggers backwards with a grunt. His hands release Vanya and she gasps in a harsh, desperate breath, the clattering somehow even louder. _God, it’s noisy,_ she thinks a bit dizzily. Mom’s grip remains unforgiving around her, but the woman is looking to the side in obvious concern.

“Number Four, stop this at once!” Father barks just outside Vanya’s line of sight.

“Fuck you! She just wants to feel happy for once, you asshole!”

“Number Four!”

“Klaus!” Mom scolds at the same time and the boy looks at her briefly before he and Vanya’s gazes lock. Klaus looks stricken for a second before he glares at Father even more heatedly.

“I’m sick of this. I’m sick of _you,_ you sadistic lunatic!”

“How _dare_ you!” Reginald hisses, and all of them stare, frozen and horrified - like watching a train wreck.

“How dare I? How dare _you!”_ Klaus snarls. “You’ve tortured us for too long, you psychopath. Vanya’s done with this shit, and _so am I!”_

The clattering has quieted but not stopped, and Vanya stares at her brother in awe.

For a moment, silence fills the room, and then Reginald draws himself up. “You never were anything but a disappointment, Number Four.” He says in a positively _frigid_ tone, and even with all his anger and hate for the man, Klaus still flinches at it. “Go, then. No one here will miss you, boy, as you were never anything of worth to begin with. But your sister remains, and she will remain _medicated.”_ Reginald says, so firmly and so without mercy that for a moment, they all just stare at him, unsure of how to react.

Vanya almost feels herself wanting to give up, because this isn’t a losing battle - it’s a lost one, and they can all see it now.

She’ll never be allowed to stop taking her medication. She’ll never be _happy_ without the help of even more, less legal drugs.

But then Klaus lifts his chin to glare defiantly at Father. “We’re _both_ leaving, because that medication isn’t for her _anxiety,_ is it?” Klaus sneers at him in so much disgust that even Vanya is caught a little off guard.

“Of course it is.” Father barks in a no-nonsense tone. “Number-”

“Then why,” Klaus interrupts him viciously, “are the plates moving themselves?”

Vanya blinks and shifts her eyes to look at the table. She sees her siblings do the same, all of them taking in the sight of the plates shivering on the table. Of the chandelier swinging for no apparent reason. Of the broken glass and scattered plants where the dining table vase had been.

Shock recoils through Vanya and the clattering abruptly stops.

“Oh my god.” Allison breathes out.

“What are you saying?” Luther demands, but his voice doesn’t hold it’s usual steadiness. He’s shaken too.

“I’m saying I’m noticing a lot of weird shit that only seems to happen when Vanya’s feeling a strong emotion. Wind blowing when she’s happy, gusting when she’s angry-”

“Lights breaking.” Vanya whispers in realization and finally, Mom’s grip falters a tiny bit. It eases just a little, not enough to grant movement, but enough to not hurt so much. Vanya hopes that it's intentional - that Mom _wants_ to let her go and is fighting Father's cruel commands as best as she can.

“Is that true?” Ben asks slowly, stepping away from the others and closer to Klaus. Father slowly sweeps his gaze over them all before he narrows it at Klaus again, expression cold.

“Number Seven’s powers are too destructive.” He says simply, utterly unapologetic, and Vanya’s heart _breaks._

She slumps against the chair, heart wrenching in her chest. “What?” She asks, voice cracking, and her siblings cast her a concerned glance. “You… you drugged me? To _control_ me?”

“Someone had to.” Father barks and Vanya flinches at his tone. “It certainly was not going to be you, as you proved time and time again. Our only choice was to take your powers away.”

Vanya closes her eyes, pained, and a few tears slip past. It hurts more than any of the rejection had over the years. It hurts more than anything but losing Five had ever hurt.

Rain begins to pelt the windows, and Vanya knows the sky is clear of any clouds. The sound just upsets her more. “Why? Why couldn’t I… learn?” Vanya asks, her voice breaking with grief. “You _took my powers away?_ Convinced me I never even had them?”

“If you had not lacked the necessary self control, perhaps I would not have had to!” Reginald snaps back at her.

“We’re leaving.” Klaus cuts in, his voice absolutely venomous. “Got it? We. Are. Leaving.” He spits out at Reginald, then points at Mom, never taking his eyes away from Dad. “Mom, let her go.”

“Darling,” Mom starts to say, uncertain and apologetic, and Vanya feels the knife of betrayal twist in her chest.

“Let me go.” She grits out and the woman - the robot, and it’s never been so _obvious_ before, and that feels like its own betrayal - hesitates and looks to Father. “NOW!” Vanya shouts furiously.

The windows crack.

“If she leaves this house, people will suffer. People will _die,_ boy, do you want that on your conscience?” Reginald demands of Klaus, but instead of flinching, the teenager glares hatefully at him.

“At least I can say I have one.” He spits viciously before moving over to Vanya. No one stands in his way but Mom, who doesn’t move until Reginald curtly nods at her.

Mom releases her like she couldn’t do it fast enough, her hands fluttering apologetically at the girl’s shoulders before she steps back. “I’m so sorry, honey.” She murmurs too quiet to be heard by Reginald. Vanya scrambles to her feet and Klaus hauls her into a quick hug before he glares viciously at everyone around them - except Ben and Allison, who both look horrified. Even Diego looks a little shaken and sick, but one can never guess when he’ll stand against Father, so Klaus shows him no mercy either.

“Stay away from us.” Klaus says coldly before he guides Vanya out of the room. She lets him, her feet and heart heavy, because she has no idea what else to do.

Her father has been poisoning her for years.

Lying to her for years.

Stealing away part of her and then telling her she’s useless without it, holding it hostage and punishing her for letting him at the same time.

It’s a horrifying realization, to know that her very _person_ is a lie, and none of them had even known.

Neither of them speak when they head to the front door - nor when they pass through it. It’s only after they're outside that someone calls to them, Ben barreling out the front door an instant behind them. “Don’t go.” He pleads quickly and Klaus’ expression crumples with the same regret Vanya feels.

Vanya and Ben had been closest to Five, and though Five and Klaus could barely be in the same room without arguing, the four of them had been virtually inseparable. Five’s disappearance had hit them the worst, and now Ben was losing them as well.

“Ben, you heard that in there.” Klaus shakes his head in dismay. “Dad’s been poisoning her for _years_ instead of… instead of just _teaching_ her.” He says, then snorts. “Not that he’s any good at teaching us to control fuck all.” He mutters.

“I’m leaving.” Vanya speaks up at last, her voice a bit shaky, but determined. “And I’m never coming back. I’m sorry, Ben.”

“I don’t want to lose you.” Ben says, his voice cracking, and he lowers his eyes like it’s something to be ashamed of.

Their father’s teachings at it’s finest. “Then don’t.” Klaus says simply. “We’ll be back in two nights, alright? Meet us by the swing in the garden - I’ve, uh…” Klaus hesitates, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “I’ve been planning to leave for a while, so I’ve got some money saved up. I’ll get cell phones, so we can stay in contact.”

Ben looks relieved at that, but still mournful. “It won’t be the same. You’ll be gone.”

“Yeah.” Klaus says, and there’s so much regret in his tone, but he isn’t wavering in his decision. “I’m sorry, Ben. You know I don’t want to leave you guys, just… just this place. And Dad.” Klaus grimaces deeply. “But we can’t get what we want without losing other stuff in the process.”

“Yeah.” Ben agrees softly, looking at them for a long moment. “Be… be careful, then. Really careful. And… I’ll see you in two nights.”

Klaus hugs him tightly, murmuring his goodbyes, and Vanya does the same a moment later. She holds him as tight as she dares, feeling sick with guilt at how his hand shake and his eyes tear up, but in the end, there’s no choice.

They have to leave.

So Klaus takes her hand and smiles as reassuringly as he can with his own heart racing in his chest, and Vanya does her best to mirror his false confidence. "Come on," He says to her, offering his hand. "We didn't get to finish our pancakes. I bet Denny's is open." He suggests with cheer that's only a little forced, and Vanya hesitantly takes his hand.

He squeezes hers once, then sends Ben one last, mournful look that the boy returns wholeheartedly. 

Together, Klaus and Vanya walk away from the nightmare they called a home, and the psychological torture that was disguised as parenting within.

 

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> And then when Ben turns 18, he dips the fuck out too, and he, Klaus, and Vanya get an apartment together and they're all happy and non-incestuous. Hurray! 
> 
> (I love the other siblings too, even Luther, who is young and naive but not malicious, they just weren't the focus of this fic. Imagine they all pitched a fit at Reginald, though. A huge, huge fit. Diego probably stabbed the old guy and Allison rumor'd Reggie to leave the knife in.)


End file.
